


Telanadas

by JessicaPendragon



Series: Non Canon Keela Lavellan [5]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arlathan, Canon Divergence, Character Death, F/M, Solavellan, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-04-12 10:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4475729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaPendragon/pseuds/JessicaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Solas falls in battle, there is nothing she won’t do, nowhere she won’t go, to bring him back. My take on the whole “Inquisitor gets sent back in time and meets the Dread Wolf” plot.</p><p>
  <a href="http://jessicapendragon.tumblr.com/post/130725277509/telanadas-masterpost">Tumblr Link</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Could be Worse

“Thank you for this, Inquisitor,” Solas says as he steps in line with Keela. She keeps her eyes on the foliage of the Hinterlands and mind somewhere far away. 

“We might as well be of some use while we wait for the army to return from the Arbor Wilds,” she replies. “And if this rift is as large as you believe it to be, we shouldn’t let it remain untouched any longer.”

“Of course. However, I am grateful that you agreed to allow me to accompany you in this endeavor. It,” he pauses, struggling for the correct words. “was well of you, in light of recent complications.”

Keela lets out a huff of laughter no one would assume to be true mirth. “This is your quest, Solas. I am not so petty a thing to keep you from it due to recent  _complications_.”

He opens his mouth to apologize, but Keela waves it away, uninterested. She could fill an ocean with his sincere words and still be left parched. The ruin where the rift hides comes into view between the trees. 

She stops and turns to him, perhaps not feeling as generous as he thinks her to be. “Besides, after the last time we traveled together, what could you possibly do to me that could be worse?”

His brows come together at that and she can recognize the flash of pain in his eyes. It’s the same one sending splinters into her heart. Keela sighs. “Come on.”

The rift is indeed large, but Keela’s anger is a more formidable foe. She lashes out with fire and lightning, fills the air with ozone and the acrid smell of burning bodies. Hers is a storm with no escape. When all enemies have been vanquished, the tear in the Fade stitches shut with a snap.

“Maker’s balls,” Blackwall mutters into the still as he pats out a flicker of flame on his arm.

“I’m sorry, I was…I’m sorry,” Keela apologizes. It is not her that Blackwall pins with an accusing stare, but the other elf across the room.

“No harm done, Inquisitor.”

Unfortunately, not all her problems can be solved with fireballs and thunder. She lifts a hand to the absent lines of her vallaslin. The marks are gone, but the memories sink into her skin, her bones. If only he could take them away so easily. Without meaning to, she lifts her eyes and finds his across the room and the space between them seems to sizzle as if she is still casting electricity from the air.

They spend a few more minutes investigating the ruin, finding little of worth or interest, before making their way out into the open. Despite completing their mission, Keela doesn’t feel as if they have accomplished much, although it is clear Solas disagrees.

“Now that the rift is sealed and the artifacts working together, no new tears should form as the Veil continues to grow stronger,” he says as they climb the stairs. “I doubt it will help us in the fight against Corypheus, but it should put Thedas more at ease.”

“They’re not happy you’ve shut the door tighter,” Cole murmurs. 

“Spirits are not meant to be in this world.”

“Yes, not this one. The price you had to pay,  _you promised us_ , but then he-”

“Another time, Cole,” Solas interrupts, and Keela knows that cool tone. She reaches out for Solas’ arm and stops them before they step out into the light.

“What are you hiding now?” 

“Inquisitor-”

“ _Keela._ Have you forgotten how to say it? How can you-” Her fingers tighten into his clothing as she swallows down her words. She sees Blackwall shift with discomfort from the corner of her eye and the motion smothers the hurt and leaves a hollowness behind. She lets go of Solas and takes a step back. “Nevermind, keep your secrets.”

She emerges into the sunlight and beyond the reach of the hidden temple. The day is warm, bright and clear, but she notices nothing but the turmoil warring within. This was a mistake. 

“Keela.” Her feet skid to a stop and she hesitates to turn around and dispel this sudden dream. She finds his posture defeated, his eyes filling with regret and honest longing. He opens his mouth to speak, but it is not his silken voice she hears. An arrow whistles by her ear and lodges itself deep in his throat.

“Solas!” Instinct makes her fling a barrier around their party and she hears more arrows thunk against the magic. She moves forward, but Blackwall is there to support the apostate as he begins to sink to the ground. 

“I have him,” he says. “Go.”

Keela turns to face their sudden enemy. Cole already dashes between their ranks, her angel of death on swift, silent wings. When she spots a woman with a bow, white rage spirals from deep within. 

“Cole!” she shouts and he catches her intent in the swirling inferno of her eyes. He disappears from the meager ranks in a flash and Keela takes a breath. The world slows, blurs, as she lifts her arms into the air and brings the sky crashing down.

Fire and rock rain down in a storm with no horizon. The ground vibrates from the strength of the attack, the air fills with explosions and screams, but Keela has no care for it now. She trusts Cole to finish whoever might emerge from her wrath and rushes to the ground next to Solas. 

The arrow is gone and replaced by Blackwall’s firm grip. Red seeps through the cracks in his fingers, rolls from Solas’ mouth, and Keela shakes her head when she feels blood seeping into the fabric of her pants. There is too much. 

“Potions?” 

“I gave him all I had,” Blackwall reveals.

“Move!” Whatever healing magic she knows, she forces into her hands and wraps them around the slick skin. “Solas help me, you have to help me.”

He shudders, gasps for air. His skin has grown pale and she can no longer feel the heavy beat of his heart beneath her touch. Keela grasps onto the sides of his face and gives a shake. “Solas!”

His gaze is hazy, unfocused, the black of his eyes blooming. Keela feels him struggle for another breath. “No no no. Don’t do this. Solas, no! Please stay with me.  _Please_!”

Eyes shut as he breathes out and Keela holds her own, waiting. When the valley fills with silence she shatters it with screams, burying her face into his still chest, shaking fingers clawing at his tunic. She grips tight, but there is no keeping him now. 

He is gone.


	2. Actions of Fools

Three days later they burn his body in the courtyard of Skyhold. 

They don’t know his customs but it seems the right thing to do. To release him into the air so he might dance among the spirits he called friends, might drift into the Fade he so loved to explore. Keela stands on the steps in a flowing gown of indigo, gold and crystal bracelets wrapped around her wrists. She is resplendent, beautiful, but there is not a person here she wishes to impress. There is only one whose voice she longs to hear caress her skin with words of honest praise and empty promises and she will never hear it again.

The flames grow stronger and pieces of her break apart with every crack of timber. 

Somehow she manages to stay upright through the remembrance dinner. It is a quiet affair and even the Vir’abelasan is but a distant hum in her mind. She is grateful to not carry the extra burden of her circumstances along with this crushing loss. Her companions remain close to ward away unwanted sympathies and there is little fanfare. Bull’s hand stays against her back for most of the night and she has never needed her bodyguard more. Every part of her is vulnerable, weak. She feels like Skyhold looked when they first walked its battered halls.   

Soon Josephine’s calming potion begins to leak from her veins and Bull’s touch becomes a cage instead of a comfort. He notices, as he always notices everything, and leads her away towards the sanctuary of her rooms. 

“You okay to be alone, Boss?” he whispers and it still rumbles through the air, but all she can hear is Solas’ last breath like a siren. Keela nods, too choked on the memory of his blood pouring to find the words. Bull hesitates before pushing the door open. “We won’t be far if you need us.”

She makes it to the top of the final stairs before the weight is too much and collapses her with the strain. Fists pound into the uncaring ground and the sound of her cries cuts the last remaining threads of her resolve. He is  _gone_. His stoic silence the last few days, his constant hesitancy to embrace her, these things were nothing compared to the empty hole inside her now. She would take his cool disregard, even his hatred, if only to see him again. 

The anchor hums within her palm, deep and slow, a discorded sound as lost as she feels. Fingers reach for the necklace hanging heavy around her neck. The jawbone feels warm in hand, as if it was just pressed against skin, and the sight of it blurs through the curtain of fresh tears. She could not let it burn too but holding it now, knowing it will never sit around his neck to touch, tease, pull, to hear his heartbeat beneath, merely reminds her of all that’s beyond grasp.

Fire begins to bloom in her other hand born of frustration. Her sorrow and rage war within. Why did he waste so much time pushing her away? Why did she let him? Futile actions of fools. She always thought their battle could be won eventually, but they both ran out of time.

Keela gasps, a thought striking like lightning inside her mind, and fingers tighten around bone.  _Time_. 

The main hall is quiet as she slips in and out of doors up towards the second level of the rotunda. The brilliant colors of the fresco call out to her but she cannot be swayed by their tragic beauty now. Her feet take her to Dorian’s cluttered alcove. Eyes and fingers scour through the bookshelves, under piles of documents laying on the floor and tables, even run over the plush chair for her prize. 

“I knew you would come eventually.” The altus stands at the entrance, arms crossed. There is no anger or annoyance on his face, only worry and understanding.

“Where is it?”

“Keela-”

“Give me the amulet.”

“It is too dangerous! What’s to become of the Inquisition, the world, if something were to go wrong? You can’t risk the future of all Thedas just to bring him back!”

His exclamation bounces off of leather spines and painted glass. In the silence, the mark grows until it burns inside her eyes. It shines a light on the tears collected there, illuminates them as they roll across her bare cheeks. For a moment she thinks of taking it by force and the idea makes her feel all more wretched.

“Please, Dorian.  _Please_.” The light fades and she cries, soft like a wounded animal, and watches his face crumple at the sound, watches his resistance crumble to ash.

Dorian sighs, defeated, and reaches into his pocket. “It was damaged at Redcliffe. I’m not sure if it will even work. You’ll have but one chance, if any. What if it breaks entirely when you get there? There will be no way back.”

She catches his gaze as she pulls the amulet into her hand. She can see the answer reflected there and has to look away before his misery mixes with her own. 

“I’m coming with you. Not to the past, mind you, but I won’t let you try this alone.”

“Thank you.” Keela leads them to the empty gardens. She lifts her palm up and the amulet gleams in the moonlight. It is indeed damaged, a feather thin scratch across the surface, but there is power remaining within. The voices of the well can offer her little assistance this time, but she knows how the rift in time reacted to her own magic. She calls to the anchor beneath the pendant’s surface and watches emerald tendrils seep into the crack until it glows bright again.

Her other hand clutches Solas’ necklace as her mind thinks back to that fateful afternoon. She can feel power surging around her, pulling her with ever strengthening arms. It is familiar and for a moment she remembers those reddened hallways and that bleak future, but returns her attention to him. Only him. 

It is a far dangerous thing to try this magic, but she will never live with the pain if she doesn’t attempt everything she can to bring him back. She knows she is not being the careful, calculating Inquisitor she has always been, but when it has come to herself, to him, nothing has ever been simple. She won’t sacrifice the Inquisition, but she will sacrifice herself. 

“Good luck,” Dorian says when he truly means goodbye. For they both know there will be no returning either way.

She closes her eyes, brings the jawbone to her lips, and commands the amulet. “Take me to Solas.”

And then she is falling, not merely pulled but ripped apart as time consumes her. She holds onto the thought of him, to the talismans of hope in her hands, no matter how the power threatens to tear her apart. She has walked the Fade twice, challenged gods and so far survived, united a world sundered. She will survive this.

She feels the ground beneath her feet again and crashes down into hard stone. Keela hears noises all around her, shouts, movement, metal screeching against metal. When the thunderous power of the amulet fades she comes face to face with the tips of swords and spears all around. 

They are elves-elvhen, wearing that recognizable glistening gold and green armor. Sentinels. She has gone back too far in time to the Arbor Wilds it seems. Why would it bring her here?

“Who are you?” one of them asks in the ancient tongue, but she ignores them all. The amulet is cold in her grasp now, the crack upon its surface spidering out even larger. She readies for another attempt and prays there’s enough initial power left to see this through. If not, she will wait until the moment. It is only a few weeks away.

The anchor sings to life again and another answers its call. “Stop! How is this possible? Move aside.”

Keela gasps and her magic sputters. She knows that voice, has felt it trembling against her lips. The crowd around her steps back and parts. He wears the same armor as the others but a pelt of fur slings around his shoulders and hip to mark him different. She knows every muscle and inch of skin beneath. There is no mistaking the easy, powerful strut, the stance of hands clasped behind his back, and she knows the way he moves across dance floors and under sheets.

A hood covers his head, but there is no hiding the gleam of blue eyes. Intelligent, curious yet closed.  _His_. She should wonder what has happened, where she truly is, but everything fades away in the face of a ghost in the wrong place.

The amulet drops from her fingers, forgotten. “Solas?”


	3. Found and Lost

Keela hesitates but a moment at the sight of him. She does not understand why he is here yet she does not care. Palms push off the ground and wobbling legs lift her to standing. She needs to hear his heartbeat, feel the air moving through his lungs. She needs  _him_. 

The pikes and swords shift down again, but it is not steel that stops her from moving forward any further. She hears the whistle before power slams down from above and forces her back to her knees. A cry flies from her mouth, more from the distress of Solas’ reaction than the pain, and she pushes back with her own rift magic before he throws her flat to the ground.

“What are you doing?” she asks, heavy with confusion and frustration.

Keela knows him well enough to see the surprise strike sharp in his eyes before he recovers. It is not only his appearance and his attack that startles her but the lack of recognition in his gaze. She has become used to his aloof behavior as of late yet this is different. If he is playing the sentinels for fools for some unknown reason, it is very convincing. 

“What manner of language is she speaking? Do you think she is another spy from the others?” one of them asks. 

“I am not certain. Leave us for the moment and see to the wards and entrances. I would know how she managed to slip through our defenses.”

She watches with interest when the sentinels bow and obey. What game has she stumbled upon now? Solas’ power evaporates as the door closes behind them. Before she can attempt to stand again, he kneels down and pulls away his hood. Keela moves back, alarmed. Brown hair collects at the covered crown of his head and streams behind in a tail. Now that she looks closer, she notices the scar above his brow is missing.

“Solas?”

“How do you know me by that name?”

“What other name would I call you? I don’t…what is happening?” 

“My grasp of the shemlen’s tongue is not as thorough as I wish it. Your use of it is perplexing. Do you not speak Elvhen to confound me further?” He gestures to her hand. “How have you come to possess the power of my orb?”

“I- _your_  orb?” The idea of it turns everything cold inside. His orb. Surely he only misspoke. “What do you mean by your orb?”

Solas shakes his head, nose crinkling in annoyance. “Do you always answer questions with more questions? Tell me how you have come by it and where your allegiance lies. I assure you, despite what my kin have proclaimed, I have little interest in wasting more lives.”

Keela’s mind races with possibilities. Alexius had them believing the amulet could only work from when the Breach was created and onward, that the only reason it worked at all was because of the hole in the world. She must be in some different version of the future, but why is Solas here then? 

For the first time she glances away from his face and at their surroundings. The walls are heavy stone, but there are trees growing between the mortar with bright leaves that seem to shimmer. She cannot see much beyond the solitary, small window. The air glows, not with the light from any star, but with iridescent streams of color.

She does not recognize this building, but she knows where they are. None of this makes sense. Keela shifts and feels the jawbone fall loose from the folds of her dress. “This is the Crossroads.”

Solas snaps his hand around the cords of the necklace and yanks, digging it painfully into her neck and jerking her towards him. There is more than annoyance and veiled curiosity in his gaze now. There is anger and a small amount of fear.

“How do you have this!  _Who are you_?” he demands, power building dark around his frame.

“I-”

The door bursts open and the golden soldiers file into the room. “Our defenses were secure, but there are forces approaching. We cannot linger here any longer without risk of being found.”

For an instant, she thinks he might rip the bone from her neck but only releases it and grabs onto her arm instead. His touch is rough as he forces her to rise and Keela has enough wits to snatch the amulet from the ground before it is out of reach.

“We shall not linger then. Watch over her.”

His embraces is traded for another and soon they are running out into the wide expanse of the Crossroads. It is different from the strange metal forest of before. There is a labyrinth of tangled bushes and masonry that continues as far as the eye can see. Water pours from a gigantic overturned cup above their heads and forms a glistening river between the lanes of ivy. There are noises, singing- birds? They sound almost too human to be animal yet too strange to be mortal.

As they escape from unknown pursuers, Keela watches sections ahead lift from the ground and move elsewhere, hears heavy groans of wood and stone, and wonders just how one can manage to escape a maze that changes. But Solas turns down corridors without hesitation at the head of their pack. It is strange to see him so commanding when he does his best to hide normally. He is the Solas she knows beneath the surface when she manages to scratch hard enough. 

“Hold.”

The sentinels stand still and silent at the command. Solas stares straight ahead at a portion of the forever wall with that patient, neutral expression that drives her insane when they argue. It is him, she is sure, but the joy at seeing him again is tempered by the differences all around. This is clearly not her world. 

 _Where am I?_ she calls to the Vir’abelasan. The voices have grown quiet, a full orchestra weeded down to only a few, and she can almost hear the individual souls as they answer her summons.

 _The path of many roads in the place of our people,_ it answers and there is a strange feeling of wishful longing for the sights and sounds surrounding them.

Without notice, ivy and root separate like a curtain and reveal stone steps descending down. Solas gives a motion and they follow, bare feet quietly slapping against the worn surfaces. A blue, hazy light gleams up ahead and as they turn one final corner a golden edged eluvian comes into view. Their leader does not pause before striding through the surface and Keela holds her breath as she is dragged right in after him.

When she steps into the other side, the magic swarming in her veins surges beyond control and ignites. Fire and lightning burst forth, threatening to consume the very flesh it was born from. She has never felt the power so strongly before, so present that it takes no thought to grab it from source. It feels here, in the air around her, not separated by the Veil. 

Her mana grows stronger, hotter, and for the first time she can feel the sting of its rage. Keela cries out at the sensation and tries to pull it back, all of it, but it has tasted freedom and yearns for more. It is too much. She will flare out, burn away, and take everyone nearby with her.

“What is wrong with her?”

“I can’t control it. I don’t…I-” Cool hands capture her cheeks and force her attention to Solas’ blue eyes. The concern she finds there has Keela reaching out to cling to his arm in desperation. “Help me!”

“Breathe,” he commands and the familiar feel of his magic dances into her skin, but there is something different to it now. The anchor twitches in her palm in time with the rhythm of his power, their songs overlapping until she cannot tell the different. Until there is no difference. 

A calming wave weaves its way through her body and smothers the raging inferno within until it is a crackling fire Keela can control once more. Relief and exhaustion follow in its wake. She realizes she hasn’t slept for more than a day now and slumps into Solas’ embrace. He does not push her away, but the stiffness in his limbs suggests he is uncomfortable with the way her fingers bunch into his clothes.

“You really don’t know who I am.” The truth of it makes her feel like she has lost him all over again and she cannot fight her emotions after fighting with her power. Keela hides her face away as it contorts with pain, tears slipping through the cracks in her resolve. 

There is a momentary pause, a sign he has noticed her reaction, but he mercifully ignores it. “A mystery I would see solved at your earliest convenience, but our present and pressing concern still remains. The wards I placed around your magic will last until we reach our destination. Come.”

His touch is much gentler this time as he helps her to her feet. Her eyes lift towards their destination and Keela gasps at the world she has stumbled upon. She can see magic drifting through the air in currents of colors like lazy flocks of birds. In the valley below spirits of muted oranges and reds congregate like grazing cattle and pay little attention to their presence. 

But it is the massive city on the horizon that draws her attention. A surrounding lake of clear, still water reflects golden spires twisting up into the sky. Some buildings are made almost entirely of crystals and the closest she can see like some sort of cathedral with a dome sparkling like a raindrop in the sun. It is nothing like anything she has ever seen, but the sight of it reminds her of something she’s only ever felt, a dream her people cling to long after waking.

 _The place of our people_ , the Well of Sorrows proclaimed. _Elvhenan_. Their joyful voices rise together and swell inside her, stretching and consuming just as her magic did moments ago. Understanding flows and she cannot believe it, but the truth gleams and shines before her eyes. She is not in another warped version of the future, nor some parallel Thedas across time. 

She is  _home_. “Arlathan.”


	4. The Dreaded Truth

Arlathan.

It is more massive than she thought, drifting out towards the horizon under the cover of lazy clouds but catching in bright bursts of the color when the sun peeks through. As they grow nearer, smudges above the sprawling landscape come into focus and she barely stops herself from plummeting to the soft grass below in awe. Parts of the city float above it, turned upside down and suspending on invisible strings, and she can see tiny shapes moving down alleyways and across squares. Impossibilities right in front of her eyes.

“Quickly!” Solas glares at her with annoyance and curiosity mixed together in only a way he could express and if she had any doubts that this man is her future lover, they are wiped away. She did not realize she came to a halt to stare at the strange heart of the elvhen.

She begins to move only to stop and gasp as magic overwhelms her again, but it is not her fire that burns her this time. The anchor flares in her palm to send flashes of pain and energy lashing up her arm and into the air around. It feels like she is racing to close the Breach again. She has no control of the pulsing of power and crashes to her knees as each beat of her heart struggles in her chest.

“Fenedhis!” someone curses as hands clamp around her arms. 

“You must concentrate on controlling it,” a familiar voice says close by and she tries despite the panic rising within. The energy lashes out, wrapping vines of power around her wrist and digging in thorns.

“I...I can’t!” she growls between clenched teeth.

“I thought you put a seal upon her.”

“I did, but it was not sufficient. This magic is...” There is a wash of cooling waves rushing through her that makes her shiver even as it relieves some of the pain. “I will have to take more drastic measures. You will need to carry her.”

“Wait-”

The magic grows colder until it all but freezes everything inside. The world grows faded as she’s hauled up onto someone’s back. Keela tries to fight the darkness overcoming her and catches a final glance at golden spires before her eyesight goes black.

She wakes slowly to warm light filtering through stained glass. It is how she wakes each morning with skin glowing in a haze of colors as the sun rises atop the mountains and she lets out a quiet sigh as she stretches under the sheets. Lazy lids lift to see a figure sitting at her side, blue eyes and bare head, and Keela smiles.

“Solas.” Her hand reaches across the soft blue spread but then the world comes into painful focus and she snaps her arm back as if struck by lightning.

 _Solas_.

She jerks upwards with feet shifting beneath her ready to bolt away. This is her room in Skyhold yet there are too many differences. It is not a giant canopied bed she finds herself in but something simpler with polished, dark wood. Her desk is replaced by an alchemy table full of potions and books she is not completely familiar with. The glass doors show wolves howling into the sky or chasing prey across many panels, and there are gentle spheres of light drifting high in the ceiling like stars brought down from the heavens.

And Solas is not Solas, although he is much closer to the man she knows. She knew. He wears something fine, cream colored sleeves billowing out like flower bells and a golden tunic swirling with etched lines and studded with red gems. The long ropes of hair are gone from his head, the skin perfectly smooth like they were never there at all.

Did she dream it? Is she dreaming now? “You cut your hair,” she blurts out and feels the embarrassment of it in the echo off stone.

Solas runs a hand over his scalp and glances away for a moment as if he is the one to be caught off guard. “My associates suggested it would make me appear more...experienced.”

She shakes her head. “This is real. This is Elvhenan and you’re here. Why...how am I in Skyhold?” Solas, Morrigan and many others confirmed it was an elvhen stronghold long ago, parts of it still infected with ancient magic too strange to touch, but to be as old as Arlathan itself is not something she expected.

“Skyhold? This is one of my strongholds.”

His stronghold. Were they all foolish enough to believe it could have been anything different as they crested the mountains to find miraculous sanctuary? She tries to reach for the Vir’abelasan but it is quiet, weakened, as if thousands of voices no longer have anything to say, or no longer exist. There are enough of them to plant a phrase back into her memory, however. “ _Tarasyl'an Te'las_.”

His eyes harden, all manner of friendliness shuttering as he moves to stand. “It is time you answered my questions. You know things only known by a few, some known only to the dead. You will tell me how you have come to this knowledge.”

“I-”

He crosses to her side of the bed in quick strides. “You are unlike any elvhen given your reaction to magic and the strange aura you possess. You speak the language of shemlen with more ease than your native tongue. You call me by my true name as if we are acquaintances, as if it is commonplace in this world hundreds of years later, and you name this place by the crux of my plans.” When he holds out the jawbone necklace, Keela’s hand jumps over her heart to find hers missing. She resists the urge to snatch it back. “You are in possession of this, something I treasure and would not part with easily. Yet the most intriguing thing...”

Solas snaps his fingers and the anchor wakes in her hand, quiet enough not to hurt yet loud enough to blare warnings in her mind. He can control the mark. How can he do it? “Somehow, you have stolen the power of my orb although it remains untouched.”

His orb. She had almost forgotten their earlier conversation, but she remembers how only he was able to quell the fury of the anchor in those early days, remembers every dreamed story of the ancient world he told in the snow, in the shadows of his artwork, in the embrace of his arms. Lies spun in half truths. She wishes it was impossible, but the more she unravels, the more pieces seem to fall into place until it is a complete picture she cannot believe she couldn’t see. 

He is elvhen, ageless and ancient, leading her around like a blind sheep the whole time. If he spoke true about the orb all those nights ago in front of veilfire, then he is even more than that. How many gods can one be claimed by before they’re torn apart? Keela rises up on her knees, a burning challenge blazing her eyes.  “After everything, how could you keep this from me?” 

It is obvious by his wide gaze and the way he backs away from her as she storms from the bed that he expected her to cower beneath his demands, but she has survived the presence of one god. She is not afraid of this one either. 

“I gave you every chance, I trusted you! Was I not worthy of it? Why!” 

She lashes out with fists and manages to connect a few times until his firm grip accosts her. There is more alarm than anger on his face now and to see it so close- the image of him laying in a field of red grass flashes across her memory and it pushes the rage aside until it feels like he is the only thing keeping her upright. 

How could he die without telling her the truth?

“Enough. I thought you could be reasoned with but if you will not tell me, then you will show me.”

“W-what?”

“I will render you unconscious and sift through the memories of your dreams for the information I require,” he reveals as he pushes her back towards the bed.

Keela plants her feet and pushes back. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“It is undesirable, but you leave me little choice. I must know if my plans have been discovered by the others. I cannot fail no matter the cost.”

“So you’ll force yourself upon me? You would never do something like this, to strip away choice and violate someone against their will. You have always fought for the freedom of others. I-”

 _I would not have loved you otherwise_ , she almost says, but her words already seem to quell him. His hold on her disappears and he takes a step away, a war of the conscious playing across his face. He is so much more honest with his expressions in this time, not quite an open book but one not so tightly shut either. 

“You must understand that it is imperative that I succeed. Whatever you might have been told, they will soon destroy this world if I do not intercede.” 

“Who are you?” she asks. There are no gods of pride. He is certainly not Elgar’nan. Dirthamen? She has met few with more knowledge than Solas and none better at keeping secrets. 

“How is it you can claim to know so much of me and yet not know this?”

“You told me many things but never what I needed to hear.”

He stares at her for a few moments of silence. “If I were to tell you now, will you do me the same courtesy of explaining what has brought you here?”

“I will try,” she replies. 

He turns away and glances towards the sunlight in a stance she knows well as he stands with hand clasped behind his back. “The Evanuris must be stopped, punished for what they have done. Already the edges of our realm have grown black, seeped in sickness brought about by their lust for power.”

“Evanuris?” The well breathes the answer in her ear. “The gods? They...they killed Mythal.”

Solas nods and she watches his shoulders slope. “She trusted me, but I could not save her. I can save the elvhen from the impending oblivion, but in doing so I must create a prison from the very fabric of the worlds. It will change everything, create chaos and strife, but to allow them to continue will surely destroy us all.”

Keela thinks about her Dalish history, things she believed were merely fairy tales or grand stretches of a polluted truth. If the gods had grown drunk on power, if they threatened the world, it was not an act of treachery that sealed them away. It was an act by a desperate savior. She glances up at Solas, cold realization seeping into her chest.

“You are Fen’Harel.”

When he faces her again she does not know if it is a relief to recognize those blue eyes or not anymore. “I am.”

The Bringer of Nightmares, the Great Trickster, He Who Hunts Alone. All those monikers take on new meanings now that she has walked in his dreams, believed his lies, saw his greatest fear imprinted in stone. She thought the truth would make her feel vindicated, but she only feels tired, defeated. All of it seems too little, too late. “You should have told me.”

“How could I do so when we have met for the first time mere hours ago? Have I been made to forget you for some purpose? Please, explain what has happened.”

“My amulet, do you have it?” Solas pulls it from one of his pockets but does not offer it back to her. A prudent decision, for if she could she would use it to return before the past becomes so mangled there might not be a future worth saving. She wonders what damage she has already done. Did this moment in time always exist, or is it all being written anew? Was their first introduction a reunion? 

“We have met, or we will meet. It is...I used that to travel through time. I tried to go back only a few days and went back much, much farther than I anticipated.”

“How far?”

“Thousands of years. It should not have happened. The amulet was only supposed to work with the Br...within a set amount of time.”

He listens to her words with that considerate expression he always wears when debating. The idea does not cause him obvious distress, but such a length of time might seem a minor inconvenience for one who lives forever, such ideas commonplace for a people that build cities in the sky. 

“Time magic has been theorized and never truly explored. It is said to be too complex, dangerous, unpredictable. Clearly an accurate assumption if what you are saying is indeed the reality.” 

“Usually the most unbelievable stories are.”

He smiles and it is a sharp knife through her heart. She has him again, but he is as far out of reach as he was burning upon the pyre. “In my experience, something I have also learned to be true. In this future I have entrusted you with the magic of my orb but not with the titles of my past?”

“It wasn’t intentional, at least I do not believe so. I can’t be certain of many things anymore.”

“But we are familiar?”

“Yes, we are,” she whispers and watches him shift on his feet. Soft birdsong fills the space between them until he speaks again.

“I believe you,” he says and Keela is surprised by the relief she feels because of it. “I would be curious to learn more about this future you come from, but I fear the repercussions of such knowledge. It is clear my plans succeed and I suppose that is all the knowledge needed.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“That I live, that there is a future, is testament enough.”

She doesn’t believe it’s that simple. If all his plans had come to fruition, why would he hide them from her? Something went wrong. There was too much grief in him, too much shame she could recognize as she made her own difficult choices. He was haunted by his shadows and they were much bigger than she thought.

“You should be returned as soon as possible to your appropriate time. I can assist you.” 

“You can?” She follows his footsteps toward the alchemy station. 

“There is ambient energy left in the amulet. With further study, I should be able to replicate the magic used and renew it.”

An easier thing said than done it appears and Keela watches the sunlight drift from one side of the tower to the other while he attempts. Solas does not let her venture down into Skyhold but suggests fresh air will do her good as the work lengthens and their frustrations grow. The mountains are taller than she remembers, sharper, and the air shimmers with those strange opalescent currents she saw outside the city. It is like parts of the Crossroads have bled into this world and even though she does not feel unwelcome here, she does not feel like she belongs either. Is this how Solas felt in her world?

“It is finished,” he announces as he joins her, the amulet in one hand and his necklace in the other. “I may have discovered the reason as to why you ended up in this time, as well. I have imbued my talisman with magic to lead me to certain places. A key to many doors. I sense little energy in it now, but perhaps enough to make a connection. I suggest you leave it behind as a precaution.”

He slides the amulet into her waiting hand. There are still cracks across its surface but it shines under the living sky. It is what she needs to get home, yet she can’t help but keep her eyes on the jawbone instead, not wanting to part with the last piece of him she has if this does not work as planned again.

“Regardless, I doubt it would have worked at all if not for that mark on your palm. Foci hold transcendent energy, the power to move and shape worlds, to alter reality. Only an Evanuris can truly control it.” If it is his orb then it is his magic that created the Breach as well. Alexius was right, but not for the reasons he believed. “I am surprised you can survive it. Tell me, has it changed you in any way?”

Keela laughs, looks away. “You have asked me that already. Here, in fact, on this very spot. The sun was setting through those mountains. I’m not sure my answer would be the same now. I’m not sure I can answer it at all.”

“A final question then, if you would permit me. Why did you come back through time?”

“To save someone.” He does not ask who, but by the way he glances between her and the bone in hand makes her believe he might know the answer.

“Perhaps I should assimilate this magic for my own purposes. I, too, have someone I would save if I could.” Panic beats against her ribs until he shakes his head. “Yet I fear this outcome would be inevitable no matter my meddling and with the possibility of far worse futures. You should go, before I decide the risk is worth the cost.” 

“What if I fail? What if the future cannot be changed?”

“Nothing is inevitable.” 

Keela closes her fingers around the amulet and takes a step towards him. “Then when the future comes, tell me the same truth you told me today. Whatever you’ve done, whoever you are, I will not abandon you. I...”

She moves until she can see the treasured veins of silver and violet bursts in his eyes. There may be words that will convince him, an eloquent speech that will carry on through the ages, but there is another way she knows he is not likely to forget. Keela holds her breath and a question in her gaze as she leans forward even further. When no objection flies from his mouth, she seals it with her own.

There is always a spark but it is brighter here where magic coats skin. It rushes through her bones, squeeze her ribs until she’s left breathless. She doesn’t mean for the kiss to be something more than a remembrance for them both- for him in case this works, for her in case it doesn’t, but when his lips part beneath hers she lingers longer, presses closer. 

Without words she tells him how beautiful she thought he was beneath the broken sky and falling snow, how coaxing laughter and a smile from him makes a star burn in her heart. How wise and caring he is if given the chance and how he is worth crossing centuries to save even if in the end he still turns away from her. How she will always loves him even if it hurts. 

When they part, Solas is a mix of understanding and confusion and she hopes he spends the thousands of years between them pondering what has occurred so she never leaves his mind. “I...” He lifts his arm as if he might reach for her, but catches himself. “Who are you?” 

Keela only smiles and takes a few steps away. She clutches the amulet against her heart and the anchor pulses around it, worms its way inside the cracked glass like before.

“Take me to Solas,” she whispers and the universe swallows her once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay now I want everyone to picture the balcony scene and give new meaning to the “I have not forgotten the kiss” part. :D


	5. All in the Timing

From across the ruin, Solas watches her fingers follow markings that no longer exist. She is as beautiful as ever, cast in veilfire with the surge of battle flushing her skin and burning in her eyes. If this were but a few weeks ago, he would be able to walk up to her, to be the one to touch her skin and feel her smile beneath his palm. Her hand would come to rest above his heart and he would feel its warmth spread beyond blood and bones to the soul. That was weeks ago, however, before he took away her vallaslin and so much more that night.

He keeps his face and voice calm as they climb up the stairs towards the open lands again. “Now that the rift is sealed and the artifacts working together, no new tears should form as the Veil continues to grow stronger. I doubt it will help us in the fight against Corypheus, but it should put Thedas more at ease.”

“They’re not happy you’ve shut the door tighter,” Cole murmurs and weariness tightens Solas into knots. He encourages Cole to grow, to understand, but his words can be landmines.

“Spirits are not meant to be in this world.”

“Yes, not this one. The price you had to pay,  _you promised us_ , but then he-”

“Another time, Cole,” Solas interrupts, unable to keep his own worries from leaking into his voice. He is not so lucky that Keela would not notice. At the mouth of the ruins she turns to face him and grasps his arm.

“What are you hiding now?” 

 _Too many things._ “Inquisitor-”

“ _Keela._ Have you forgotten how to say it? How can you-” Her fingers tighten and take hold of something deep inside. He has missed her touch, longed for it more than he cares to admit. To feel it again rattles the chains of his resolve, rusted as they already are. When Keela lets go, he has to stop himself from protesting. “Nevermind, keep your secrets.”

If only he could tell her how little he wants them. As she steps into the light all that he truly desires is illuminated in stark clarity. He does not walk the Fade to witness ancient memories or search for answers anymore. He spends his time in their memories, cherishing her face and her laughter, wishing for another world where they could be together. 

No, he has not forgotten her name. 

“Keela.” He says it before he can stop himself and the effect is immediate for them both. She faces him slowly, as if he will startle at the slightest provocation, and the hope and surprise on her face makes him feel all the more wretched for what he has done. He could tell her the truth, he knows. He has always known.

As he open his mouth, he catches sight of movement across the field and something flashing towards them. The arrow is a foot away from his throat before it stops dead in its tracks, suspending in the air by some invisible force. He takes a steps back, gasping in shock, but it moves no further. Solas glances at it before turning his attention to the world around him again. It is all frozen like he is caught in the midst of a vibrant painting. He does not understand until he hears her voice.

“I got it right this time.” Keela stands in front of him, unmoving, as another version of her weaves through the still bodies of Blackwall and Cole. She wears a smile and a gown the color of the sky melting into dark night, and he remembers the woman who fell out of the air and drove it from his lungs as she kisses him under the gaze of the mountains. 

And like before, he does not resist as she wraps herself around him and presses her mouth against his. There are no secrets between them to stop him from reaching out and feeling her again, to stop a sigh from slipping from his lips onto hers. She is warm, warmer as her relief and joy spreads across her skin like a fire in the heart of winter.  

He remembers seeing her for the second time, bashing bold and beautiful into battle with her palm glowing green. He pauses, almost losing a limb in his distraction, saved only by her fire slicing through the demon instead. When he takes her hand to close her first rift, it is he that feels sparks of wonderment. For quite some time, he let himself believe that day thousands of years ago was a dream, but seeing her again changed everything. Made this world painfully real when it was easier to dream.

“You should not have done this, vhenan,” he berates her even as he holds her closer. He has been waiting centuries to tell her so and yet the delivery has been altered somewhat, the meaning changed. After everything, he does not deserve what she would give him- a second chance to undo her world.

Keela grin grows. “At least some things are still the same.”

She moves away from him, grabs hold of the arrow, and pulls. It resists her interference at first, making her arms shake with the effort to alter its course, but after a few straining moments the deadly arrow no longer poses a threat. He has always wondered when this moment would come with every battle faced and fought, with every time he manages to escape death knowing it was still waiting for him. Realizing it came from an arrow he never saw seems anticlimactic, all things considered.

As Keela lets go, her body begins to glow and waver, pieces flaking off to fall to the ground like she is a tree in autumn. Like Wisdom did as it broke apart to drift across the water.

“What is happening?”

There is no shock or fear on her face as she glances at herself, only a quiet acceptance. “Death cannot be cheated, Solas. A life for a life.”

“No-”

“It doesn’t matter.” Her touch is cold as she reaches up to brush his face. “I’m still here. I am not leaving you alone.” 

“You do not understand what I must do. If I succeed or fail, you...you will-” She knows his past, but she cannot see his future and what will be become of his creation. He has made this distance between them to protect them for there can be no outcome that will see them both survive.

“Nothing is inevitable, remember?” She kisses him again, a fleeting touch lighter than a feather. “Tell me.”

She disappears in a flash, the ground pitches, and the Hinterlands come to life again around him. The arrow whizzes by, nipping at his cheek, and Keela’s eyes blow wide. “Solas!”

He cuts through the air and covers them all with a barrier spell. “Ahead of us!”

With their element of surprise thwarted, the bandits are easily dispatched by the powerful Inquisitor and her companions. For a few minutes as the fight rages he manages to forget about the past and the future until Keela steps over a smoking body and places her warm fingers against his cheek.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, it is a minor scratch,” he assures her, but her touch remains. When he does nothing to dissuade it, she takes a step closer.

“Was there something you wanted to tell me before, Solas?” she whispers and he wishes that this moment could be the one frozen in time, when there is love and promise in her eyes and a thousand futures all brighter than the rest. Perhaps he could have any of them, but just one with her is all he wants.

Solas takes her hand, gentle and slow, and moves it away from him. “It was nothing,” he lies before letting go. 

Keela’s face hardens and she drops her arm like it weighs the world. He can see her jaw moving with words she wishes to speak, but in the end she turns and leaves him alone in silence. Solas watches her check with Blackwall and rummage through the slim pickings offered across the grass. When she signals for them to leave he gives a heavy sigh before moving his feet with little thought to where they head. 

He would tell her the truth and remain at her side in the days to come if she would allow. He did not know the elf upon the balcony would become more important to him than the fate of her world, that every moment spent with her would be eternities over too soon. She is fleeting and yet the only sure thing he has found since awakening. To hold onto her just a bit longer, to have her love that transcends time...

He would give her everything and for that reason, he cannot. He cannot, he cannot. he cannot...

_Nothing is inevitable._

...but he might, someday.


End file.
